


wonderful but never meant to last

by badritual



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Abby-Friendly, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Disaster Evan Buckley, But With Implied Buddie, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Exes Reminiscing, F/M, Gen, Looking forward to the future, M/M, Mostly Buck-Centric Gen, Moving On, Not Beta Read, Pre-Pre-Buddie, already jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: He’d once thought of Abby as his missing half, a puzzle piece that slotted perfectly into the empty space in him.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Abby Clark (Past), future Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (implied)
Kudos: 44





	wonderful but never meant to last

**Author's Note:**

> Of course my first 9-1-1 fic is mostly Buck and Abby, smh. Anyway I started writing this before 3x16 aired and obviously before the preview for 3x17 dropped. You’re welcome to consider this a slight canon divergent AU.
> 
> If you want, you could think of this as gen but I was definitely writing Buck as realizing he's in love with Eddie. 
> 
> Title from "The Trapeze Swinger," by Iron & Wine. Just because.

She looks good. Not that he’d been expecting her _not_ to look good. Or that he wanted her to look _bad_ , or anything like that. It’s just the first thought that pops into his mind when he sees her: _God, she looks good_. Like the time away from him had suited her—but he shouldn’t think like that. She hadn’t left because she didn’t care about him, didn’t love him. Abby hadn’t left because their relationship hadn’t meant anything—enough—to her. It hadn’t really had anything to do with him, had it? 

Buck realizes he’s been caught staring when Abby comes to a stop in front of him and tilts her head at him, red-gold hair spilling over her shoulder. She’s wearing a slinky black dress that’s short enough to show off her legs, and they’re nice legs. He lets his eyes trail up, up, up, to the amused twist of her lips and her sparkling blue eyes.

Everything about her is exactly as he remembered, but—no, there’s something different about her. Something’s changed. _She’s_ changed.

Buck licks his lips, intending to say something, like, smart. Something sexy and _cool_. Maybe something to get into her good graces. 

“You, um, you look really, really good,” is what comes out of his mouth though. 

Buck winces, wishing he could step out of his body for a moment to kick his own ass for the clichéd unoriginality.

Abby just laughs, and the sound rings in his ears like a bell. She smiles at him and her eyes crinkle. “You too, Buck.”

“So, um,” Buck says, eloquently. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Abby agrees, slipping her hands from her hips to flatten the wrinkle-free skirt of her dress.

Buck realizes then that Abby’s as nervous as he is about this reunion. It actually kind of helps quell the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. If she’s as nervous as he is, maybe it means as much to her as it does to him.

After an usher seats them at their table, they launch into the usual safe amicable-ex conversation topics, like pets, houseplants, mutual friends, “how’s the job been treating ya?” Buck isn’t that oblivious that he doesn’t notice neither of them has even come close to broaching the subject of their relationship. 

He wonders if Abby thinks he hasn’t moved on yet, and part of him chafes at the thought. Does she think he should still be hung up on her? Especially when she clearly isn’t still hung up on him?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Abby tilts her head at him, a soft smile spreading across her face.

And just like that, Buck’s annoyance with her dissipates. She’s still the sweet, caring woman she’d been when they dated. Those parts—the parts of her he’d fallen in love with—have stayed the same, at least. But there’s no denying that they’ve both changed. 

He’d once thought of Abby as his missing half, a puzzle piece that slotted perfectly into the empty space in him. Time’s changed them both, though, that emptiness molding itself into a different shape, so that she doesn’t quite fit as well as she used to. 

“I—I thought I’d sweep you back into my arms with some pretty words,” Buck admits, cheeks warming. “Maybe some flowers.”

Abby’s smile doesn’t dim. “But?”

“We’re too different,” he says, reaching across the table to clasp her hand in his. “But that’s not a bad thing. I don’t think.”

“It’s not,” she agrees, squeezing his hand gently. “You’ve really changed, Buck. You…” Abby pauses, running the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip for a moment. “You look good. You look _happy_.”

“I think I _am_ happy,” Buck says, after a moment’s reflection. 

His mind dances over sounds, images. Feelings, sensations, cherished memories he’s been storing up in his heart like sustenance to get him through the winter. Athena. Maddie. Josh. Chim. Hen. Chim. Bobby. Maddie. Eddie. Christopher. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. His family. _His_. 

“No. I definitely am,” Buck says, gently slipping his hand free of Abby’s.

His mind lingers on a memory. A feeling, really. Stuffed into a couch between Christopher and Eddie, knees knocking, shoulders pressed tight. Glimpsing Eddie out of the corner of his eye and feeling so goddamn happy. So goddamn content, he felt like his heart might explode from the fullness of the feeling. 

_His_.

Buck glances at Abby again. She’s still smiling at him, genuinely happy for him, practically glowing.

Her smile widens. “That’s all I wanted for you.”

“Me too,” he says. 

Buck’s hand still carries the warmth of her touch, the feel of her fingers clasping his. Or maybe it’s not hers anymore. Maybe it’s not so much a memory but an anticipation. A hope. A moving forward.

“I’m really glad you came out,” she says, softly. “I wasn’t sure you would. Not after the way I left things.”

“I thought I was gonna win you back,” he says, with a sharp laugh. “But I don’t think either of us want that.”

“I think you’re right,” she agrees, picking up her wineglass and sipping daintily. 

Buck sits back, still smiling. Unable to wipe the smile off his face. He feels suffused with warmth, a warmth he really only feels when he’s jammed into that couch with Eddie and Christopher.

“I hate to cut the evening short,” Buck says, “but…”

“You’ve got someplace to be,” Abby finishes.

“It’s been real nice and—” he starts, as he tosses some money next to his plate, but she cuts him short. 

“Get out of here, Buck,” she says, leaning in and pressing a warm kiss against his cheek. “You’re needed elsewhere.”

Buck gives her a grateful smile before he turns and hurries out of the restaurant, fingers reaching up to unknot the tie around his neck.

He hopes Eddie and Christopher haven’t started movie night without him.


End file.
